


Drag Me Down

by Rabdom



Category: The Tick (TV 2017), The Tick - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-19 04:38:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14229438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rabdom/pseuds/Rabdom
Summary: Tick made the mistake of admitting his feelings to Arthur -- and has to figure out exactly how they work before he can explain them to Arthur. Of course, his comrades in crime fighting might not always be the best to turn to for advice.





	1. Drag Me Down

_I've Got a River For a Soul_

_And Baby, You're a Boat_

_Baby, You're My Only Reason_

“Tick, you haven't even been in a relationship before, so how -”

“Oh, you don't know that! I have amarillo, remember?”

“Amnesia, Tick. And I know enough to know that you don't know how to be in one.” Arthur huffed, stopping at the door to his workplace. He grimaced. “You don't even know the difference between love and -- _love_.”

Tick’s antenna moved as he tilted his head “I don't quite understand."

“I just -- ugh, I have to go to work,” Arthur replied hastily. “I -- we'll talk after work, alright. See you.”

With that the blonde made his way into the building, leaving a confused and slightly distraught Tick to stare at his dimmed reflection. It was obvious he was thinking rather hard. So there was a difference between love? Tick couldn't quite understand. He knew Dot loved Arthur, but that was different from how Joan loved Walter. But he didn't love Arthur the way Arthur loved Dot -- at least he was sure he did; Arthur was not wrong in him not remembering the variances of love -- so what else could there be?

*******

Tick began to meander the streets as he thought, not wanting to upset Arthur anymore than he had by standing around his place of undercover work. That's when he had an idea -- perhaps he should ask sister Dot! She knew a lot of things. First was her apartment. She wasn't home. Figured. Back out the window he leap, mindful to close it behind him (which seemed pointless now, really). Second was work -- score!

Dot wasn't really the one to enjoy company at work unless it was pre planned (screaming and blood everywhere, among other things), but Tick never seemed to comprehend that fact (or cared) -- making this the third time the blond saw him being escorted to third floor trauma just as they were dropping off a patient.

“Dot!” the Blue Yonder greeted, followed by a crushing hug. Many people stared as they passed, a few stopping to stare as if in wonder at the superhero.

“Tick! What are you doing here?” Dot only managed when the vice grip around her body was released, teeth clenched.

She grabbed his upper arm and tried to lead him out of the ward without waiting for a reply (didn't want him doing accidently do something wrong, like break someone). Tick followed without much of a care in the world, thankfully.

“I stopped by because I have a question to ask you,” Tick informed as they passed back through the double doors and into the small waiting area. Dot made a beeline for the elevators.

“Don't tell me you locked yourself out of the apartment again?” she asked, pressing the button to go down.

“No, I -”

“Brought home another striped cat?”

“No, I already found this one a home, but --”

“Oh god, the apartment's going to reek when Arthur gets home.”

There came a ding, followed by the elevator doors opening. Dot entered, Tick following closely. The elevator shifted under the large man's weight. How much more than two fifty could the guy weigh, Dot wasn't sure.

“Dot, how do you know you love someone?”

So surprised was the Paramedic by the question that her finger slipped while pressing the button, three lighting up instead of just one. The doors closed, and their descent began.

“I don't mean how you love Arthur, of course,” he clarified. “I think it's more than that, and Arthur said -”

Dot snorted as the doors opened to the second floor. Two made to get on -- but paused when they saw the hulking mass already in board. Tick waved merrily, then seemed rather upset when the duo did not get on. The elevator continued.

“Ok, first off, I don't think Arthur's the one to ask about love,” Dot informed, looking quite amused at the thought of someone asking her brother about love advice. “Second -- what makes you think you love someone? Not that I'm, you know, saying you can't.”

“Well, you see, that's the thing,” Tick sighed heavily, “I've tried to confess to Arthur how I feel about him and --”

“Woah, hold up.” The elevator dinged again, signaling it's descent to the first floor. Dot quickly ushered Tick off, not wanting to meander around the bassment (much less Tick meandering around high dollar equipment). “You're telling me you're here to get love advice -- so you could date my brother?”

“There's a date?” Tick asked, confused. “Wow, this love stuff _really_ is confusing.”

Dot sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose while making to go outside. Tick followed.

“Listen, Tick,” Dot sighed, finding a bench just outside. The bench wobbled and whined in protest as Tick sat down next to her, obviously ready to listen. “Love is -- it's complicated, ok? But when you're in love with someone, well -- you'd feel it.” She paused before adding, “And not like you would, you know, feel this bench or something. It's an in your chest kind of thing.”

“My chest?” Tick asked, looking quite concerned as he grabbed at said area. “What is it feeling? Do I need to get it out? Is it supposed to be there?”

Dot held back a laugh. “No, Tick, it's -- it's a good feeling, don't worry.” That seemed to calm the big guy down substantially, and he nodded in understanding.

“But -- if I feel it and it's supposed to be there,” the Tick said slowly, “how am I supposed to get Arthur to understand it?”

Dot pressed her lips together tightly. “I know my brother's hard to deal with and all, Tick --”

“Hard? But he's so soft and squishy!” Dot couldn't hold back the chortle and continued best he could.

“But he knows as much as you do about love as you do. And it's not like he ever got lucky.” Tick seemed rather clueless about Dot’s hint to her innuendo, so she went on. “My point is, he's a little insecure, scared and maybe just needs some time, you know? To take it all in.”

Tick seemed to nod in understanding, staring at the ground for a few moments in thought. Dot sat back, hoping to god she wouldn't be the one he'd ask about the birds and the bees to next. Finally, he turned back, face still contorted in thought.

“Sister Dot, how much time?”

“I'm sorry?”

“How much time would be enough time for Arthur?”

“Oh, I don't know, Tick, I --”

“Everest!” The duo jumped as a man stuck himself halfway out the front doors. “We got another call. Come on!”

“Be right there, James!” Dot replied, standing quickly. Tick followed suit, bench creaking as he did so. “Tick, I'm sorry. Listen, though,” she rest a hand on his large forearm, “if you need to talk more, just come by after work, okay?”

“Will do, Dot. Thank you!”

A crushing hug ensued, and it took Dot a moment to finally pry herself away and give a final goodbye before leaving. She just hoped she didn't screw Arthur over royally. Tick would make a pretty good brother in law.

*******

Arthur stared mindlessly at his desk top, scrolling through pages of information that was mind numbing. Yet his mind kept wandering back to the Tick -- he made a glance around; sometimes just thinking about him could make him appear -- and earlier that day.

_“That's why I love you, Arthur!”_

_“Love's a pretty strong word. You know that, right, Tick?”_

_“Well, then only the strongest for you, chum!_ ”

One line that started that gut wrenching feeling; though in all honestly it had been there well before that. It shouldn't have set him off like it had; but it did. What was so wrong about the Tick saying he loved him? The man was rather open about literally everything. So what was the big deal? Aside from being in a committed relationship, much less believing someone would want that with you of course. (And a super out of all people!) Arthur slumped forward in his chair.

Today was going to be a long day.


	2. Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick gets advice from Overkill Dangerboat. Well, as much advice as they can muster.

_I've Never Been That Lucky_

_I've Never Tasted Fame_

_I'm Always Looking For Something_

_But I Hate Changing!_

So he had to wait for Arthur if he wanted Arthur to recuperate what he was sure he had. He could wait -- _would_ wait, for however long Arthur needed, because he knew he could. He would anything for him, he was sure. But how could he get Arthur to believe that, even after he waited?

Dot said he would feel it inside his chest if he were in love with Arthur, right? He knew he felt something in his chest, especially when he thought about Arthur. There was fluttering and dizziness, and he felt -- oh, what was the word he was looking for? -- content around Arthur, like he could be next to him for a million years and not be sad. Was that what this love was?

“Hey, big guy! What's the rush?”

Tick paused mid stride to peer over his shoulder. Overkill caught up swiftly, suited in civilian attire. He must have been doing recon.

“I see no rush,” Tick informed as they continued to walk, “though my favorite sandwich shop was sure busy on my mid morning patrol!”

Overkill rolled his eyes. “So nothing…. Different today? Nothing I should be worried about?”

“Oh, no,” Tick assured as they rounded a corner; not even noticing they were nearing water. “Everything seems quiet today. Though I did get to see Dot.”

Overkill’s mood seemed to brighten at bit at her name, though immediately tried to play it off.

“Is that right? How's she doing?”

“Quite alright, actually. I had stopped by hoping to get some advice --”

“On _what_? How to stop people from bleeding?”

“I suppose that would be rather helpful in future missions, yes,” Tick mused, “though sadly, no. I needed to ask her about being in love with someone.”

“With who? Lady Justice?” Overkill snorted.

“Well, no. A person.”

At that, Overkill paused, face contorting into -- something as he stared (it was really hard for Tick to get a read at all with no real eyes, honestly).

“ _You_ , love something other than justice?” Overkill finally replied, regaining the composure to continue walking.  “Not something I thought I'd hear.”

“While my love for justice is firm, I'm starting to believe I have a greater love for Arthur.”

At that, Overkill snorts. “Figures.”

“I don't follow.” They stopped in front of an oddly familiar boat.

“Figures you would fall for him,” the brunette none too elaborated. He then turned to the boat and proceeded to give it two hard bangs. “C’mon, you know I'm here!”

The doors swung open a moment later.

“I would fall for Arthur, if that's what he needed of me,” said Tick as they entered.

“Ah, Tick! So good to see _you_ , at least,” Dangerboat greeted with a pointed look to Overkill. The man merely rolled his eyes as he began to take apart his hidden weaponry. “I heard you talking about Arthur. Is everything ok?”

“Big guy here went and fell in love with his sidekick,” Overkill informed, unloading a handgun onto the table. Dangerboat’s eye widened as he focused back on Tick.

“I see,” said Dangerboat, sounding a little off put. “I suppose it's foreseeable -- it is Arthur, after all.”

“Who else would he be?” Tick asked, concerned. Overkill rolled his eyes.

“In any case,” Dangerboat continued, trying to ignore the question, “I hope it works out… _well_ between the two of you.”

“Thanks!” Tick replied cheerfully. “Although, Arthur didn't seem to mind the confession too well earlier.”

“Oh really?” Dangerboat sounded a little too intrigued -- or even elated -- at Tick’s words.

“That little fan boy? Not flying head over heels over a Super confessing their love to him?” Overkill asked, moving to hang up in a display that slowly emerged from the wall (or Dangerboat, depending on how one looked at it). “You two are just full of surprises today, aren't you?”

“I don't think Arthur flying head over his heels sounds too safe,” said Tick, meandering around the table almost aimlessly as Dangerboat shifted around. “And I'm sure I'd explode if I were full of surprises! Oh, but are they good surprises? I think I'd be ok if they were good surprises.”

“Ugh, I should've never said hi,” Overkill groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he moved away from the wall; display quickly dispersing.

“Have you tried showing your affection instead of just stating it?” Dangerboat asked. “Sometimes, people understand showing rather than telling.”

“That's a great idea!” Tick seemed ecstatic for a moment, before frowning. “I don't know. Dot said to give him time. Wouldn't showing him be not giving him time?”

“Well, yes, but --”

“I say you just pin him against the wall kiss him,” Overkill interrupted with all seriousness, plopping down in a chair. “He can't say no, and he'll get the point.”

“Oh, hush, you!” Dangerboat shushed before turning back to Tick. “Don't listen to him.”

“Noted!”

“Hey!”

“How you show him doesn't have to be extravagant,” Dangerboat interrupted before an argument -- or worse -- could ensue. “If Dot said he needs time, then perhaps small things would do?”

“Small things,” Tick muttered to himself, looking to his feet for a long moment. “You mean like giving him a mouse?” he asked finally.

At this, Dangerboat sighed. Overkill tried not to laugh at the thought of Tick surprising Arthur with a mouse; one that had probably accidently been crushed in the behemoth’s hand.

Ah, the girlish screams.

*******

Arthur sat at a small table, lunch before him practically untouched.

So what was the being deal of Tick loved him? The Tick loved almost everybody and everything. So he shouldn't take his words to heart then, right? So why couldn't he stop?

Arthur groaned and packed up his lunch, retreating back to his desk to try to occupy his mind with something other than Tick. Not like that would help any, of course.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 for all you lovely readers! This one was short, but I like where I ended it and wanted to start the next chapter off decently, so here you go! Also, I'm pretty sure I ship Overkill and Dot at this point 
> 
> Also, I don't know if you guys have noticed, but I've been naming chapters after songs that have been giving me muse. The last chapter/story title was Drag Me Down by One Direction (I know, I'm 20-something, sue me), and this one is Believer by American Authors.


	3. Cheerleader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tick gets advice from everyone's favorite Grandma -- and Arthur runs into a bit of trouble.

Tick left Dangerboat after an hour of trying to help him figure out what to do (and Dangerboat and Overkill arguing over methods). They were helpful, but confusing; both they and Dot were saying two completely different things. Who was he supposed to take advice from, then? Tick could feel himself become a tad disoriented as he began his trek through the city streets, looking for no good criminals in the hopes of figuring things out.

> *******

The Blue Yonder found himself at the corner store near Arthur's house late afternoon; scuff marks and dust covering his suit. The bell dinged as he entered. The shopkeep moved from his hiding place in the back, seeming enthusiastic about another customer -- only to have his expression fall as he realized who had entered.

“Oh, it's you,” the man greeted none too enthusiastically. “No Arthur today?”

“Sadly, Arthur must entertain his duties at his undercover place of work,” Tick replied, meandering towards the small table in the corner.

An elderly colored woman sat with a plate before her. She seemed to perk up at his presence and motioned for him to sit in the other chair across for her. He obliged, and the flimsy seat groaned with protest under his weight.

“ _Right_ ,” Goat nodded as he passed, resuming his duties of trying to keep the place organized while he waited for customers. “So sad people have to go make an actual living instead of prancing around the city in spandex knowing you might die.”

It was meant to be sarcastic, and the man's grandmother shushed him. Tick didn't seem to realize that, though.

“ _Exactly_! What could be more fulfilling than a life of fighting crime?”

“Money,” Goat muttered from another isle.

“I think it's wonderful what you two do,” Ouma stated, pushing the plate of food towards Tick. The man accepted happily; justice wasn't as fulfilling to your stomach as one would think. “It takes a lot of courage to do that line of work, you know.”

“Courage is but a mere stepping stone into the life of fighting crime, dear Grandma,” the Tick replied as he munched away on his food (a stern, “She's _not_ your Grandma, for the last time!” resounding from Goat as he noisily stocked shelves). “It takes patience, and a bit of elbow grease. Speaking of which, Horse -”

“Goat! _Goat_!”

“-- you wouldn't happen to have a supply of elbow grease yet, would you? I was hoping to restock soon.”

An exasperated sigh came from the man as he leaned out of the isle he was in to give his grandma a stern look.

“Can you believe this man? How can Superheroes go around being like -- _this_?”

He gestured to Tick, who was merrily finishing off the plate and looked off put when he couldn't find a napkin, his suit too dirty to use instead.

“Don't you listen to him, child,” Ouma said, reaching down to pull a few napkins from her purse and handing them over to Tick. “You and Arthur are two of a kind. I bet --”

“Of a kind? What kind of kind? Is Arthur hiding something? Gasp! Is he a different kind of kind? A not human kind?” A soft hand rested on his forearm, quieting him.

“I'm sure he's the best kind, just as you are.”

A small, almost dopey smile etched onto Tick’s face as he took in the words.

“Arthur is the best,” Tick agreed with a nod. Then his face fell, and he seemed to remember his troubles. “Grandma --,” there came a frustrated groan from where Goat still worked, “-- I bet you've been through a lot in your age. Maybe you can help me.”

In most cases, one might find it offensive that someone alluded to them being old. But in Tick’s case, Ouma knew he meant well.

“With what, child?” she asked, grabbing a napkin from her bag and handing it over.

“Well, you see, that's the thing,” Tick sighed as he cleaned his face and hands before resting balled up fists onto the tiny table. “I've gone to sister Dot, and even spoke to Overkill and his smart water equipment, and they're just so confusing. I was --,” sigh, “wondering if you knew anything about how to tell if you love someone. How to have someone understand you love them?”

Goat leaned out of the isle again, expression showing confusion and mild interest.

“ _You_ , liking a girl?” Goat asked. “That's something to ask questions about.”

“Not just any girl,” the Tick informed. “I think I love Arthur.”

Goat had to cover his mouth to keep himself from laughing as his grandmother gave him a death glare.

“I think I am in love with him,” Tick continued, “however when I tried to explain this to Arthur, he said I didn't understand love and _love_ , though I'm not quite sure what he meant. Are there more than two type of love, Grandma?”

“Tick, there are many kinds of love,” Ouma explained, frail hand resting atop his much larger one on the table.

His face contorted in confusion, however she raised a hand asking for silence before continuing.

“There are many types of love, but the love you're looking for -- it comes in the most unexpected places, leaving you breathless and wanting to find more. You can't get rid of it, and you can't explain it, but it's there -- you feel it in your heart, your soul, and the person you crave to give it to will not always be willing to give it in return. But you will know what it is, because no matter how uncertain life is, that love will always be there, a -- a rock to keep you steady, a kind word to keep you going, a light in the darkness keeping you sane. And the person of your affection -- they're like a beacon of hope even in the worst of times, something that can never be sad even on the dreariest of days, a shelter from the storm. Do you understand, son?”

“Is that how you and Granddad felt?” asked Goat as he approached slowly, even seeming a little taken aback by her words.

Tick sat there in silence as they spoke, seeming deep in thought.

“As much of a hell on Earth that man could be,” Ouma sighed, retracting her hand to lean back in her chair, “it still hurts to know that he is gone.”

“Grandma, he's still back home,” Goat deadpanned. Ouma snorted.

“Ay, the bastard,” she chortled. Goat rolled his eyes.

“So what you're saying,” Tick started slowly, “is that I'll know when I'm in love?” Ouma nodded. “And it won't change?” Another nod. Tick paused. “But Arthur, he might -- not love me?” His antenna drooped.

“Not everyone our heart desires will feel the pull, darling,” she assured. “That does not mean they can't be swayed, however.”

“First life advice, now love advice,” Goat snorted as he wandered back to his duties. “You should really start charging more.”

“So even if Arthur doesn’t think I love him, that doesn't mean he can't?” Tick asked, now sounding excited.

Maybe Dangerboat had been right -- showing was much better than telling. But, Dot said Arthur might be scared. And he didn't want to scare Arthur anymore than he actually was; that was the last thing he wanted to do. But…

“I apologize for rushing out,” said Tick as he stood, pushing in his chair and putting his trash neatly on his plate, “but the city needs me. Thank you kindly for the lunch and words of wisdom, Grandma! Duck --”

“Call me Old McDonald, why don’t you?”

“-- noted! I will see you hereafter, Old McDonald, and let you know how Arthur is doing.”

With that, the Super headed out the door without much of a care in the world. Goat peered out from the isle as the door closed, giving his Grandma a death glare.

“You fed him another one of those Lunchables without making him pay again, didn’t you?”

The woman shrugged half heartedly. You couldn't just let a man fight crime and claim his love on an empty stomach, right?

***

Another excruciatingly long day at work left Arthur feeling more drained than fighting crime at night. At least it was Friday; he’d partly get a day off from work, only to look forward to crime fighting with Tick on the side.

Speaking of which -- while he wasn't a fan of seeing Tick again, knowing that the big guy would want more of an explanation what with how their conversation ended, he was surprised to find that The Tick was not waiting for him outside like he usually was to make the journey home with him. Arthur felt his heart sink. As boisterous and upbeat the big guy was, he was also prone to sadness quite easily (he still cried over the ASPCA commercials every time, even though Arthur explained to him numerous times that the animals in the commercial were, in fact, safe and sound in warm, cozy beds). Maybe he had upset him? Was Tick angry with him for not wanting to return his feelings? Now he felt bad for ever saying anything at all.

Ah, how denial and fear could do that to a person.

After waiting a few moments in the hopes that Tick would show up to no avail, Arthur started his long trek home. He couldn't find it in him to take the bus -- public transportation tended to intimidate him and cause his senses to go out of whack in that claustrophobic place without Tick to keep him sane, much to his dismay -- so walking seemed like the best, less stressful option.

Of course, Arthur didn't live in the best part of town, so walking within distance of his house always caused him anxiety. Not as much as the bus, as he had dealt with enough corrupt villainy to not be totally off put by every day crime. But having a bulletproof suit sure helped one feel more relaxed walking dangerous streets. That, and no one dared mess with him with a hulking mass of blue justice beside him.

Arthur was just rounding a corner, not three or four blocks from his house, when he heard rapid footsteps behind him. He thought nothing of it, of course -- until he felt himself being shoved and his bag being ripped from his back, his small frame falling to the ground with ease from the sudden motion. The perpetrator dashed past with his belongings -- wallet and phone included -- and hurried down the street before Arthur could fully process what was going on.

Anger and greif flooded him as he tried to stand; he knew he wouldn't be able to catch the guy as he rounded the corner, much less recognize him enough to track him and his belongings down. That didn't seem to discourage him from wearily rounding the corner in the hopes of catching where the figure went -- only to find the man lying on the ground, groaning as he held his head, Tick standing over him triumphantly with his bag in hand.

“Trying to steal from the weak and defenseless, I see,” Tick was saying. “It's not nice to take things that aren't yours, you know.”

“Tick?” Arthur asked (even though he already knew the answer) as he approached.

Tick’s gaze shot up from the man withering in pain on the ground, face lighting up.

“Arthur!” he cheered. “You're just in time. This man was trying to make a get away with some poor woman's purse, and I--”

“That's my _bag_ , Tick,” Arthur corrected, walking over to take the bag so Tick wouldn't accidentally break it's contents.

Arthur then gave a glare to the man who was now lying there less in pain and more in fear of what Tick might do if he had a sudden movement. If Arthur was an asshole, he might have just kicked the man while he was down.

“Your bag? How could let him get away with it, Arthur? Are you not feeling well?”

Arthur wanted to say he'd been in a trance all day, not even paying attention at work to instead indulge in the forever mind numbing force that was Tick. All because he said three little words. Arthur didn't say this though, hoping Tick had absently forget about the whole thing.

Instead, as he took the offered bag he said, “I'm not wearing my suit, Tick, remember? I don't wear my suit when I'm going to work.”

Tick’s lips pursed in thought before nodding; picking up the assailant by the shoulder to stand him on his feet as he spoke.

“Right. Don't want anyone accidentally finding out you're Mothman at your undercover job, right?”

“Undercover j- Yeah, Tick, right.”

Arthur pushed around Tick, continuing his way to his apartment. Tick followed suit, half dragging the criminal with him. The man didn't seem to try and fight the vice grip around his shoulder. But then again, with Tick, it wasn't like kne had much of a choice.

“Say, I was thinking,” Tick started, “after we drop this guy off at the station, how about you and I go out for ice cream? They don't accept acts of heroism at the shop as payment, otherwise I would have brought some to you!”

Arthur could just imagine Tick, holding two cups of melted ice cream in each hand as if he had just brought home the jackpot of ice cream. At least he didn't try to simply _take_ the ice cream.

“I don't know, Tick,” Arthur sighed. “I'm just -- I'm really tired. It's been a long day, and I just --”

“It's always a long day when we're apart, chum,” interjected Tick. “The hands of time can never seem to move fast enough.”

Arthur tried his best to swallow around the lump in his throat. If Tick forgot about their conversation from earlier, his words didn't make it seem like that.

“I just think I need to lie down,” Arthur finished with a sigh. "It's just been a long day for me. Maybe tomorrow?"

Tick made to respond, to protest, however was caught off guard by a resounding bang that echoed through the street causing his ears to ring and Arthur to drop suddenly to the ground as if in slow motion right before his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know where this chapter came from. I'll likely be adding Tick’s intro to the scene next chapter to explain why he's acting weirder than usual when he was so set on getting Arthur. For now, enjoy a clif hanger.
> 
> Muse from Cheerleader by Omi


	4. Fire N' Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick mulls around his best course of action -- although his mulling might have been his downfall. Arthur learns how useful both arms actually are.

Tick wasn't sure about love. It was so confusing and hard to understand. What he did understand was that to him, Arthur was his world. He wasn't sure what he could do if he didn't have his partner in justice by his side almost all the time. It also wasn't hard to understand that all of his new viewpoints for trying to figure out love and Arthur were not wrong, either. Dot and Dangerboat knew a lot of things, more than he did (Overkill, he was sure, only knew how to shoot a gun and kill things).

But if this was love, how could he let Arthur know of what he felt? How could he make him understand?

Tick paced the apartment nervously, carefully picking up trash and any remnants of clutter as he went. Arthur had taught him how to do a lot of things; shower, use the coffee pot, how to tie a knot. But cleaning was probably one of the most productive things he'd been taught, assuming he didn't accidently break anything. And as they came to find out, Tick actually _enjoyed_ cleaning -- so long as he was bored out of his mind or had something nagging at him, of course. It gave him something to do other than punch things, plus Arthur said it gave him a responsibility. Tick liked feeling like he was responsible for something good.

Dot had said something about a date. But what date was it? She hadn't even given him a day of the week, much less a decent time frame. But she also said he'd need time to accept this (if he were in love with him, as Ouma pointed out). Dangerboat suggested to show rather than tell. But Tick was always trying to show people how he felt rather than say it; the hugs, the kind gestures, the uplifting monologues.

Overkill said just to admit it outright, demand that his words be accepted as fact and make Arthur believe him whether he liked it or not. But that seemed rather harsh for someone like Arthur, and Tick couldn't just force himself on Arthur in any way. Arthur was just too fragile, too kind and caring to be treated so roughly. Grandma -- she said it was a certain, strong feeling, right? That Arthur could love him, even if he didn't now.

With the house clean and his mind still wandering, Tick plopped himself -- _carefully_ \-- onto the couch, television on low to create background noise as he thought long and hard. How could he get Arthur to understand he really loved him; that whatever it was humans did when they loved one another, Tick wanted that, too. And with Arthur, only and always ever Arthur. Tick sighed as he slid down the couch a little ways, the show on the TV illuminating the dim room. What it was about, he wasn't sure.

Even if he were to show Arthur, how would he go about it? He had seen television shows where professing one's love often ended in a happy ending; and he had watched shows with Dot, with extreme dismay and despair when it came professing one's love. Tick felt like one of Dot’s shows now, lips forming into a frown.

Tick sighed as his body slid down the couch, grabbing the remote to turn up the volume. It seemed to be some sort of romantic comedy of the sorts, though not a show he'd seen before (he preferred what Arthur called cartoons; Sesame Street was his favorite). Two characters seemed to be having a dispute of some sort about their feelings, and Tick’s antenna perked up. In the midst of their discussion, the man suddenly grabbed the woman's face and melded their faces together softly, and the woman almost seemed to melt at the embrace. Tick cocked his head to one side.

Tick had seen others doing that before; Joan and Walter did quite frequently, if he could recall. Arthur called it ‘kissing’. He knew it only happened between couples (though some countries did this as a form of greeting), at least when meshing lips like these two were. That was when Tick had an idea -- a brilliant idea.

Tick would kiss Arthur -- that would show Arthur how he felt. Right? That's how everyone showed their love, after all.  
Checking the clock and realizing he was more than late to meet Arthur as he got off from work. Out the window and down the fire escape he went, unaware how being late could cause so much more trouble than he intended.

*******

Arthur fell to the ground with an agonizing scream, bag dropping to the ground as he grabbed at his bleeding shoulder. The shooter moved to point the gun at Tick’s abdomen and fired point blank -- but was surprised to find that not only did the bullet ricochet quite easily, but that the burn of a gunshot at close range like that can really hurt, gun falling to the the ground.

That, and The Tick was not a pleasant experience when angered.

“I don't think that was a good move there, chum,” Tick informed.

Anger bubbled up in his voice as he squeezed down on the man's shoulder hard, causing him to cry out and half crumple to the ground, only to dangle in the Superhero's grasp. While the Tick was not a violent man (he disliked the thought of killing overall, whether it be a villain or a hero) he was always up for a good rough housing -- which was why the man landed on the street moments later just as a cop car came to a squealing stop inches from running him over.  
The Tick seemed ready to follow him and show him a bad time, but an injured sound caused him to stop. Realizing what had just happened and noting the Police Officers rushing to apprehend the man (which was a good deal, for the shooter's sake), Tick pivoted and rushed to Arthur's side. The young man lay crumpled on his good side, bag discarded as he grabbed at his shoulder. His glasses lay forgotten on the ground, eyes wound shut rather tightly.

“Arthur! Are you ok? How bad is it? Can you sit? Here, let me --”

Arthur cried out in pain again as Tick tried to help him upright, causing the hero to almost jump back after trying to move him. Tick bit his bottom lip. He didn't understand a lot of things, but what he did know that gunshots to a person were pretty painful and caused them to lose blood. Sometimes a lot of it, and loosing a lot of blood was never a good thing.

“Tick -- ugh -- I think,” Arthur tried to say as a crowd gathered, a few frantically calling for an ambulance, and one of the officers rushed over to help, “I don't think it got anything important but -- nngh -- I didn't think a gun shot would hurt this bad.”

“Oh, you'd be surprised,” the cop assured as he knelt down beside Arthur.

Tick had to move back to give him room, however a large hand griped Arthur's good hand which lay limply on the ground for support. Arthur grasped back as if it were his lifeline.

“I'm gonna need you to roll onto your back so we can see how bad it is, alright?” the cop asked. “The paramedics will be here soon, I just need to see how bad it is. Think you can do that?”

Arthur nodded after a long moment, obviously bracing himself as the cop went to turn him over. An injured gasp soon followed and his vision seemed to swim. Tick’s body seemed to tighten and he glared up at the cop as he continued to turn him over. The only thing that kept his frustration in check was a weak squeeze from Arthur.

It didn't feel like it, but Tick knew everything was going to be okay. With Arthur, everything was always ok.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is more of an interlude than anything. My muse was off for this chapter. I hope you guys don't mind the crudiness.
> 
> Kudos and constructive criticism loved (though positive comments make the world go round.)


	5. One Call Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tick was never good with directions. At least he knows how to work a phone -- sort of.

I _'m Only One Call Away_

_I'll Be There to Save The Day_

_~~Superman~~ Superian Got Nothing On Me_

_I'm Only One Call Away_

Hospitals weren't much of Arthur’s forte. While he loved his mother dearly, years of being placed in whitewashed rooms talking to therapists day in and out, medication and delusions and the reminders of his father being crushed by a ship and his heroes slain and tortured by the villain that would give him nightmares for years to come really didn't help him rest easy in that hospital bed.

He'd been right that it hit nothing important. Well, too important; some muscle had to be repaired, and he'd be in a cast and sling for some time. But it wasn't terrible. The doctors still wanted to keep an eye on his vitals for the night and make sure the stitches and fixed tissues would hold before they let him go. Hey, at least he would get out of work for a few days. Probably.

Tick had, naturally, tried to follow him aboard the ambulance; but his weight proved to be too much for the emergency vehicle. So he had to be left behind; Arthur just hoped Tick would actually figure out how to get there.

Tick was never good with directions.

*******

Tick picked up the fallen bag hurriedly, opening it and shuffling through it’s contents until he found the cell phone. Handling it as gently as he could, he unlocked the device and fidgeted with it for a few minutes before finally opening the contacts application (he still couldn’t figure out how to use a cell phone, and his slightly panicked state of mind didn’t help that at all) and scrolling until Dot’s name appeared. It took another moment before he finally managed to call her.

“Hey, Arthur. What’s up?” Dot answered after five rings.

“Ah, good, Dot! Listen, I --”

“Tick? Why are you calling me on Arthur's phone? Is he okay?”

“That’s the thing,” Tick said as he closed the bag and proceeded to walk briskly down the sidewalk towards where the ambulance had gone. “We had an -- _incident_ while Arthur was coming home from his undercover work.”

“What kind of incident, Tick?” Dot was sounding a bit panicked now.

“Arthur got shot. It’s okay, thou--”

“Arthur got shot? Oh my _god_! Where are you? Is he okay? Do you have the wound elevated? Do --?”

“He’s on his way to the hospital now,” Tick tried to assure the frantic woman, stopping at an intersection and looking down all streets. Which way had it gone? “It was -- his shoulder. He said he’d be fine.”

“Good. That’s good. Which hospital are you guys going to?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t allow me to follow. Apparently my weight was too much for the emergency hospital truck to bare.”

“What? Where _are_ you, then?”

“I’m beginning to wonder that myself,” Tick admitted, feeling defeated.

“You don’t -- Tick, do you not know where they took him, either?” Dot sounded more annoyed than angry, really.

“Not -- _exactly_ ,” Tick sighed.

“Okay, it’s okay,” Dot assured, though she didn’t sound too sure herself. “Do you know what street you’re on? Any buildings?”

Tick looked around for a moment before spotting a diner across the street.

“Yes, I see one of your old fashioned eating parlors across the street.”

“Old fashioned -- you mean a diner? With a long red and white overhang?”

“I think -- and maybe.”

“Ok, you're on the corner of -- 95th and Harring. There’s a hospital not too far from Arthur’s. Just -- you’re facing the diner, right? On the other side of the street?”

“Correct!”

“Take a left, go nine blocks, turn right, then go three and there should be a hospital there. Okay? Think you can remember that?”

“Left, nine blocks, right, three,” Tick muttered to himself as he turned and began his trek to the hospital. “Left, nine blocks, right, three.”

“Ok, Tick, I’m going to hang up now,” Dot informed; it sounded like she herself was outside now, and running somewhere. “I’m going to call mom and head that way. I’ll call you back in a little bit to make sure you made it. Alright?”

“Thank you, Sister Dot. I’ll see you at the emergency care facility!”

He just hoped he would get there before any else bad happened.

*******

Arthur was drifting in and out of sleep -- honestly, there wasn’t much else to do in a hospital besides watch television, and nothing was good on -- when there came a bombardment of footsteps outside his open door that stopped at the nurse’s station nearby.

“Hi! Hello! I’m looking for my brother,” came a familiar voice. “He came in about an hour ago with --”

“Dot?!” Arthur said, snapping from his lucid state and half sitting up in his bed. Pain ripped through his arm as he moved.

The footsteps started again, and Dot quickly moved into the room; their mother and Walter following close behind with relieved expressions. Arthur felt himself internally groan.

“Oh thank god!” Joan was the first to speak, rushing over to her son’s bedside. Dot moved to the other side, Walter stopping shortly behind Joan. “Dot called saying you’d been shot. We were so worried!” The woman planted a kiss on his cheek, much to Arthur’s disapproval.

“Glad to see you’re okay, son,” Walter added, leaning over to pat his leg. Arthur wanted to correct him -- but given his mother’s frantic-seeming state, he figured it was better not to.

“Thanks,” he said instead. “Doctors said the wound was superficial and I’d get out in the morning. But,” Arthur looked to Dot curiously, who had a hand resting gently on his leg, “how’d you find out so fast? I didn’t think the nurses would contact you.”

“Tick,” Dot deadpanned. “I guess he figured out how to use your phone.”

Tick figured out how to use his cell phone? Well, that was a miracle. All the big lug ever did when Arthur let him play on it was hit buttons. He often had to reinstall or uninstall apps Tick had accidently messed with, and once or twice he had to go through the trouble of ridding the phone of viruses it had contracted. But then --

“Did you have to make him wait outside or something?” he asked curiously. Dot’s face dropped in what appeared to be horror as she quickly pulled out her cell phone and began dialing. Joan seemed confused.

“We thought he was with you,” Walter stated. “Dot said she gave him directions when he called about you earlier.”

"No, I asked him to bring me my stuff so I could call you guys," Arthur stated.

Great, now the Tick was likely lost somewhere in The City. That was never a good thing. As much as he knew he would dislike any conversation that might follow Tick, this worried him.

“Tick! I thought you said you were at the hospital,” Dot stated from the other side of the room once Tick finally answered (it took a good five or six rings).

Pause.

“Well so are we, and we didn’t see you in any of the waiting rooms on the way up.”

Pause.

“Obviously not. Just ask a nurse where you are.”

Another pause.

“Oh my god,” Dot groaned, putting the phone to her shoulder for a moment. “He’s at a hospital on the other side of town.”

Arthur’s face dropped as Joan tried to hold back a chuckle. Of course. Of course Tick was on the other side of town. Where else would he be?

“I thought you said you gave him easy directions?” asked Joan.

“I did, but--,” Dot sighed as she put the phone back to her ear. “Listen, I’m on my way to get you, okay? Just don’t move an inch from where you’re at now, okay? Bye.”

With that, Dot promptly walked out of the room, annoyed that she would have to make another car trip; and she thought riding around with her mom and Walter for forty minutes in traffic was hard.

*******

Tick had been sitting in the lobby for quite some time, staring at the phone in his hand as the clock ticked by. Patients went in and out, some with considerable wounds. There was even an overweight woman screaming her head off as she was wheeled directly to the back. Tick hoped she was going to be okay with -- whatever it was that was wrong with her. Her pain seemed absolutely terrible.

Was that what Arthur was feeling? His hand clenched around the phone slightly before remembering that Arthur wouldn’t be too happy if he broke another phone. So instead he slipped it back into the backpack as he waited. Was Arthur doing okay? Was he hurting? Of course he was hurting; but being at a hospital stopped that, right? That’s what Dot did for a living, so why wouldn’t he be pain free? … Was Arthur worried about him? Mad he got lost? He hoped not.

He was always sad when Arthur was angry at him.

“Tick!”

The Blue Yonder jumped and turned his head to see Dot waiting at the entrance. She gestured for him to follow hurriedly, and he did so. She seemed annoyed, so Tick bowed his head slightly as he approached and followed her outside to her waiting car.

“How you managed to get all the way across town is beyond me,” she muttered as they got in and took off. “You followed the directions I gave you, right? The _right_ directions?”

“Well, yes,” Tick nodded. “But there was this nice man on the corner selling candy, and then --”

“Just -- just _stop_ , Tick,” Dot sighed, shaking her head. She felt more annoyed than angry, really. Probably just should have told him to stay put and picked up on her way to get Walter from work. “You can tell Arthur all about it when we get to the hospital, okay?”

Tick didn’t respond. Instead, a saddened expression came over him as he clutched Arthur’s backpack against him.

“Was -- he mad?” Tick asked slowly as they came to a stop light. Dot raised an eyebrow.

“At what? _You_?” she asked. Tick nodded. “Why would he be mad at _you_?”

“From earlier, when I confessed to him,” Tick admitted as the light turned green and they took off. “And from getting shot.”

“Okay, first off, no,” she said as they rounded a corner, “he wasn’t mad. He was asking about where you were. And why would he be mad at you for getting shot?”

“Because -- well, I could have stopped him,” Tick admitted. “I could have searched him and --”

“Tick, no one’s blaming you,” Dot assured. “I’m sure if you knew already, you would have stopped it, okay? It’s fine.” A gentle hand rested on The Tick’s leg. He nodded. “Speaking of earlier,” Dot said as they came to another light, “how’s it going trying to figure out Arthur?”

Tick seemed to perk up at that.

“It’s going rather -- odd, actually,” Tick admitted, antenna perking as well. “After I met with you, I ran into Overkill and --”

“Overkill?” The light turned green, and they took off again. “And -- was he, you know…?”

“He was undercover,” Tick informed with a nod. “Though I must say, his advice was not as likable as his Steve’s.” Dot would have screeched the car to a stop had they not been already coming to a red light.

“You asked Overkill for advice,” Dot stated more than asked, “on love.”

“Not exactly,” Tick admitted. “Overkill’s advice on love is harsher than a sunburn.”

“Oh, I’m sure.”

“But I also got to meet with Ouma and Duck --”

“You -- mean Goat, right?”

“-- I believe so! Anyhow, Grandma Ouma gave me some great insight. I think I know what I must do, Dot.”

“What’s that, Tick?” The cars horizontal to them began to slow to a stop as the lights began to change.

“I must kiss Arthur!”

Dot sat in utter disbelief, her eyes locked on Tick as she tried to comprehend what she was just told. Cars honked behind her, and she stepped on the gas before the light could change back and someone got onto her with a case of road rage.

“You want to _kiss_ Arthur?” Dot repeated after a long few minutes. “As in, eyes closed lips touching kind of kiss?”

“I believe that’s how kissing works, yes,” Tick nodded.

Out of all of the things Tick could have told her in their lifetime, this was nothing she expected; at least, not this suddenly. Tick didn’t even know what babies were (or rather, couldn’t comprehend that they were small humans who couldn’t do anything for themselves, much less hold a conversation), much less where they came from. So kissing -- wasn’t really something she expected.

“And -- how do you expect to, uhm, go about this, Tick?” Dot asked. “Have you even, you know, actually kissed someone before? Other than on the cheek?”

Tick sat for a moment to think, before shrugging.

“Not that I can recall, no,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not willing to learn!” Dot chuckled at that.

“That’s good. Just, you know, don’t do anything that would freak the poor guy out.”

“Oh, nothing of the sorts! You don’t have to worry, Sister Dot. Arthur is always ahold of his freak when he’s with me.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Dot laughed.

Yeah, Tick would make a pretty great brother in law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had to finally stop this chapter after 2k worth of words. Jesus, I overdid it. I keep feeling like I'm butchering these character's, though. ;-; Kudos and comments are great!
> 
> One Call Away by Charlie Puth.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope I did this character justice. I just watched the new Tick on Amazon, and got addicted to watching the older versions after that. I don't believe how much I ship these two (someone needs to stop me, seriously).
> 
> If you liked this, leave a kudo or a comment. I'll post the next chapter if everyone seems to like it.


End file.
